The Riddled Omen
by Plunger
Summary: What happened between Tom Riddle and Ginny Weasley down in the Chamber of Secrets? One year after she is out of Hogwarts, Ginny has a five-year-old son. But he seems to possess dark powers only able to come from one person...
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: My friend and I do not own Harry Potter or the Omen, including all the characters.

A/N: My friend and I are writing this together. My friend did the first chapter. I will be doing the second.  
  
Chapter 1: Prologue

_"Ginny, tonight is the night when we must meet. I have waited for you for so long...."  
  
I dabbed at my eyes when I saw those words appear within the pages of the diary. I sat in the common room, alone while girls were outside fussing about classes, or guys they like. I sat alone, and with my diary... my friend, my almost seemingly so – guardian angel. I was moments ago crying, but the sudden words that I scribbled into the diary were responded by the kind loving words I had always wanted to hear.  
  
My diary was different than other diaries. Mine was special. Mine would know if I was upset or not, or if I was happy. It would comfort me, tell me it's feelings, and in return I'd it mine. And, my diary went by a name Tom, Tom Riddle. It's quite odd how the diary had a name before I had a chance to name it, but it looked so old. I had guessed it was a hand- me-down, and that was the name that it was given before. I didn't mind I actually liked the name, and I don't think I could have come up with a better name. I don't know where I accommodated this diary, I remember finding it within my books for school when my mother bought them at Flourish and Botts. I thought it was a notebook, but realizing that it was a diary, I was even happier.  
  
I scribbled back, "Tom, so have I... I am anxious to meet you. You have been my closest friend." As I watched the words sink into the diary, they were replaced by the elegant hand of the diary's. Tom's...  
  
"You have been more than a close friend to me, Ginny." I smiled, "Tonight, I shall call for you. Wait for me Ginny..."  
  
I nodded as I watched the words disappear back within the pages of the diary. Moments before, and days too, I had been writing to Tom saying that I had been doing bad things. Very bad things... there was a killer on the loose, who had been stunning people, and who wrote the message about the 'Chamber of Secrets' on the wall near the girls lavatory. I was suspecting it was me, and I believed my brother, Percy was suspecting things too. Ron nor Fred and George knew anything about it. I was anxious to tell someone, even Harry! I had been telling Tom that Harry had been blamed for the odd things happening in Hogwarts, and he just replied, "I don't think it was him Ginny, I am sure of it..." and followed by more comforting words of how much he cared for me. I trusted him.  
  
But now, setting my pen down upon the desk, I fixed my eyes upon the small clock. I would just have to sit and wait. I needed to see Tom, and somehow, I craved for someone to hold me, and tell me things would be okay. I am sure he'd be the one to do so...  
  
  
  
Then, hours later when I opened the diary, I saw the words, the invisible hand writing it:  
  
"Come Ginny, I wish to see you now..."  
  
When those words were written I felt a strange euphoria, as if all my worst fears were pushed away. Like a guiding hand, I arose from the bed, grabbed the diary off the desk, and exited the room. I saw nobody in the Common Room, and I was sure they were all attending the feast downstairs.  
  
I had no idea where my feet or Tom's words were guiding me, but I craved to find out where. I then felt a strange feeling a fear within my stomach when I saw that I was being lead to the Girls Lavatories... where the awful writing on the walls appeared.  
  
The next thing I knew, I was within the bathroom. It was empty no cries from Moaning Myrtle in any of the stalls. I only wondered where she was, and now I hoped that someone was in here. Incase I needed help... But why would I need help? Such a curious thought!  
  
I looked down at the diary, and read the words:  
  
"Look to the sinks, and you know the one which does not work? Go to that one, and whisper to it. Ask it to 'Open up'."  
  
I did as Tom told me to do. I walked along the sinks, and spying the broken one, I stood in front of it. I looked to the diary 'Ask it to open up.' I looked back at the tap. "Open up..." I whispered to it, and to my surprise, the sinks began to reveal their secret. At that moment, I realized – The Chamber of Secrets! I was standing in front of the entrance to the Chamber.  
  
The next thing I saw was blackness, winding blackness. I slid down a tunnel, which lead me to who knows where. When I landed on ground finally, I looked around. The diary lay beside me, the page opened up to the words:  
  
"Follow the path Ginny, follow it till you come to a door. As it to 'Open up' as well... I wait for you behind that door. Do not fret Ginny."  
  
The words, comforting once more, even though my surroundings were not. As I took a step, my foot hit something odd on the floor. Looking down I shrieked... It was bones! There was something down here... Something that kills! I ran now, I did not look back at the bones, or the internal darkness that surrounded me.  
  
Coming to the door that Tom spoke of, I whispered the words frantically, yet determinedly, "Open up!" The door opened up, revealing a large room.  
  
"Tom...?" I meekly called out, my voice echoing along the walls of the large chamber. My heart was beating so fast, that I did not hear Tom's voice, as it was – a soft whisper.  
  
"Ginny, you are here, at last."  
  
I made a quick pivot, coming face to face with a boy. His hair was un-even, his face pale as a ghost, and his eyes, were dark. He looked me over; a strand of his hair fell in front of his face. He wore Slytherin robes, and I became a bit confused about that. I didn't care, I just wanted to hear his comforting words again, and his arms around me.  
  
The next thing I knew, I was in his arms. His arms holding me tightly, loving and caring they were or they seemed. I laid my head against his chest.  
  
"Tom, oh god Tom!" I cried, "I have so much to tell you... I think I am the one writing the nasty things about the Chamber of Secrets, and I was the one who has been stunning everyone...." My voice was muffled by my voice against his shirt.  
  
His hands found his way underneath my chin, his eyes penetrating, gazing deeply into mine. His face descended lower, and his lips were upon mine. I was afraid at first, but I then gave into the sweet pleasure. My hands wove into his hair, and held him closer to me. His hands left my chin, and encircled my waist.  
  
"Ginny..." he whispered hotly in my ear, "I want you – I want you to know that it was me. But nothing is going to change that, because now, you are mine... You are mine, Ginny."  
  
My eyes opened wide. It was he! He was writing the things! It wasn't me it was he!  
  
"No!" I pushed away from him, but his arms held me tightly in place, his lips trailing down my neck. "But... that does not explain anything! There was blood, on my hands! I have woken up places, and I don't know where I have been..." My words were hushed by Tom's fingers brushing my cheeks.  
  
"Charming girl you are, Ginny." He said, his fingers pushing off my robe, "beautiful too..." I watched it fall to the ground, my eyes widening as I looked up at him again.  
  
Was it I then? Did he possess me? Was it this diary that was asking me to do these things? Was he... oh god! "That explains nothing, let go of me please..." I could not reach my wand, for he held it in his hand, and threw it aside.  
  
"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny... I have nothing I need to explain to you... you should have figured it out by now." He grinned, and his fingers played with the skin underneath my shirt.  
  
"Stop!" I cried, but his lips pressed back upon mine, begging him to continue on... Next thing I knew his fingers were playing with my body so oddly, that I had to give in... There was part of me, screaming to get away, but then there was that part of me that wanted to be in his arms, wanting this. Wanting him.  
  
"Tom..." I breathed against his lips, his hands undid my skirt letting it fall to the ground as well. He smiled, and his hands pressed against my now naked skin, after he had removed my other garments. I was naked before him, his head bent, and his hands playing with the tiny curves of my body.  
  
I was then on the floor with him, I did not know how it happened, but I was... I was going to make love with Tom. His eyes looked at me, brushing back my hair. His knee pressed between my legs, and I shuddered of the contact our naked bodies had with one another.  
  
He then thrust within me, and I cried against his lips. "Tom..." I whimpered my hands now around his cheekbones my lips playing with his lips. His hands holding my hips in place, as he thrust within me again, then again... each time, wonderful than the first.  
  
It was all I could remember then and now, then being in his arms – as he whispered everything to me, everything...  
_

* * *

Ginny Weasley looked out the window of The Burrow. Her reflection looking back at her within the window.  
  
"Mommy, Ron is being mean."  
  
Ginny turned around to see her five-year-old son, Damien standing within the doorway. His eyes narrowed, and gazing intently at her. 'He looks so much like his father.'  
  
"Ron!" She cried, hearing his voice not far away. Holding out her hand to her son, he came to her, and climbed into her lap. Seconds later, Ron appeared within the doorway.  
  
"Were you being mean to Damien?" she asked, smoothing the child's' hair back with her hand, her face a scowl.  
  
"No, no I wasn't Ginny... honest..." he said, his eyes looking at her, than Damien. "Honestly I wasn't."  
  
"Yes, you were..." Damien replied, rather coolly for a child to speak, turning to Giny, "He did mommy, I swear it he did."  
  
Ginny looked to Ron, and then back to Damien. "I don't know who is the blame." She said finally, her eyes looking out the window. "You can go Ron."  
  
Ron stared for a moment, and ran off down the hall to Fred and George again. She now overheard them talking about their joke shop that they were running. The Weasley Wizard Wheezes, were some of the many names of candy and such.  
  
"Mommy... why do you stare out the window sometimes?"  
  
She had almost forgotten Damien was in her lap, and starring at her curiously. "I am just thinking, that's all." 


	2. A Birthday Celebration

Chapter 2: A Birthday Celebration

"Surprise!"

It was Damien's sixth birthday, and all of the Weasley's old school friends had been invited over for the party. There were treats and games galore thanks to Fred and George. Everyone was smiling and having a good time. If someone wasn't, they would be quickly cured by a practical joke from the twins.

Ginny was rushing around checking on everything, making sure that the party was going perfect. Damien watched his mother sadly off to the side.

"Hey there," a female voice said to him. He looked over at the woman that addressed him.

Hermione was bent over close to Damien. Her hair was just as bushy as is had been at Hogwarts. Even though she grew up, her looks did not. She had a childish look to her features, which gave a tone of innocence off. After Hogwarts, she had gotten a desk job with the Ministry of Magic and was now dating Ron. On her time off, though, she would visit the Burrow and look after Damien if Ginny needed the help.

"Why are you over here all alone, Damien? Come on, let's go play a game." Hermione lifted the child into her arms in a single, fluid motion. She walked him over to the Toddler Broom ride and sat him down on one of the sticks. As the ride started, she smiled and talked excitedly to him. Damien looked past her to his mother. He didn't want to be on this stupid ride. He wanted to be with his mother.

As the day went on, Hermione continued giving all her attention to Damien. She seemed transfixed with him. Whenever one of the other adults tried to get his attention, she hissed foully at them and moved the child somewhere else.

Ginny sat back in a chair with a relieved sigh. Her feet hurt and her back ached. She needed to rest for a bit. Sitting there, she looked around for Damien and spotted him with Hermione. She watched them with a small smile on her face. As the minutes passed, the smile faded more and more until she was frowning. Why was Hermione hogging him? He was her son, she should be looking after him.

Ginny stood up and walked over to the other woman quickly. "Hermione, may I please have Damien."

Hermione looked at her like she was speaking parseltongue. "Why? We're having fun?"

"I don't need an excuse to take my son." Without saying another word and before Hermione could, Ginny swept her son into her arms and walked quickly away. "The nerve of that woman," she muttered.

Hermione kept her eye on Damien the rest of the party. As she did so, she got a stronger and stronger unrecognizable sensation. Just when she thought she would fly off the handle, Damien looked straight into her eyes. Hermione's brown eyes went wide and her breathing became short and fast. She knew what she had to do now.

"Time for fireworks everyone!" Ginny shouted excitedly to all her guests. They looked to the top of the Burrow, and that is when they saw the figure on top of the house.

"Who is that?"

"What are they doing?"

"I think it's Hermione."

Hermione walked to the edge of the roof, a rope in her hand. Her unseeing eyes played across the crowd that had gathered closer to the house.

"Hermione! Get down from there!" Ron ran through the crowd until he was in the front.

She slipped the rope around her neck, the other end was tied to the chimney. It wasn't just any rope. It was a noose. Hermione smiled as she stepped closer to the edge. "I did it all for you, Damien." Then her feet left the safety of the roof.

Ginny looked away, covering Damien's eyes with one hand. The child peeked through an opening in his mother's fingers. His eyes never left Hermione's motionless, swinging corpse.


	3. A Mysterious Sign

Chapter 3: A Mysterious Sign

Ever since the birthday party, Ginny found herself quiet, crestfallen. How could this have happened? Hermione....innocently calm, smart, brainy - dead.

Burying her face within her hands, she sat within the dark living room. Her mother and father were seated across from her, hard to explain the emotion within their eyes as the fire – once soothing, now scathed – cast across their faces.

"Ginny," her mother whispered. "Will you not speak to us?"

Ginny said nothing as she raised her face to look at her mother's kind understanding one. Her mother grasped her father's hand, which was clenching the chair rest tightly. Ginny dared not look into her father's eyes.

Her father, who had once adored her – being the only daughter, and youngest, among boys – now felt ashamed. He knew nothing of what had happened to his daughter in her first year, not until the second month of the summer. He noticed that Ginny had been rather fatigued and seemed to be putting on weight. He became worried, and so did her mother. When his curiosity had discovered his daughter was pregnant, anger overcame him mind, as well as disgust, disgrace, and sorrow. He had descended upon his daughter like an owl on its prey, demanding answers. Ginny told him nothing at first, but then it was all too simple, too explanatory.

_When Ginny gave birth to the child, he looked upon it with vague acceptance. _

_"The Devil's child," he whispered, setting eyes on the mother. Ginny clutched the child, grief and worry stricken. _

_"He is not the Devil's child! He is my son!" she cried defensively._

_"Your son, Ginny? Do you not know whose essence he carries? He will follow in his father's footsteps!" Ginny shook her head and clutched the child closer to her small breasts. Her father broke into a fit._

_"Ginny, you will not care for this child! You are too young and don't understand the problem." He pointed at the child. "That is the child to he-who-must-not-be-named. Our one adversary, whom has pure hatred for the only boy that survived the last attack upon the wizarding world! He will pour his vengeance into this child!"_

_"He will not!" Ginny whispered. The child began to cry, looking perhaps for a meal it would be hard for her to give._

_"You cannot Ginny! If you-" He stopped and looked to Ginny's mother. "If you won't do something about this, mark my words, I will!"_

It was obvious what was going on within his mind, but he dared not speak it. Ginny's mother's lips quivered slightly as she looked from her father to Ginny.

"Ginny, the loss of Hermione is unbearable to us all. To commit such a-" She stopped. Her hand came to her face and covered her silent tears. Her father's eyes narrowed.

"Father, please say what you wish to say. I see anger within your eyes," she said softly, though her voice was slightly raspy.

"I said it six years ago," he said coldly. "I dare not say it again. You know, you know..."

Ginny's lips quivered against her father's words. How could she forget? Her father glared at her mother and then at Ginny again.

"He is a child, only that." Her words were soft, yet defiant.

Her father bounded out of his seat, pointing an accusing finger at Ginny. "You damn well know who caused this!"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley cried, trying to restrain her husband from lunging at their child.

"I will not tolerate this, Molly! Hermione's death was not an accident!" he cried. "It's quite evident."

Ginny stood up and began to walk out of the room, but the tightening grip upon her arm made her think otherwise.

"You are not leaving this room, Ginny."

"I left this room a long time ago," she whispered. "I will not attend to my son." She wrenched her arm free from her father's grasp, and she walked quickly from the room.

Ginny stomped up the first step when she realized Fred, George, and Ron were all staring at her. Apparently they heard everything. She continued her way up the stairs, walking past them. Her thoughts were upon Damien. But if she would have looked or paid attention to the window then she would have seen the flash of a camera and a pair of blue eyes staring...


	4. Tom

Chapter 4: Tom

Ginny was so upset about what had happened with her parents only hours earlier. She sat in her darkened room, staring at the wall. She felt so weak and tortured. There was only one thing she could think of doing. She took a seat at her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. The quill scribbled rapidly against the paper. Then, quietly, Ginny opened up her owl's cage and let out the night hunter. She held out the letter to him, which he grasped in his talons tightly.

"Fly," she whispered hurriedly. "Fly to Harry."

In the blink of an eye, the owl was out the open window, it's wings flapping ravenously. Ginny looked out into the night, praying that the letter would reach Harry soon.

The next day, all day long, Ginny stayed in her room. She dare not show her face around her parents. She cuddled Damien and magicked him more milk when his bottles ran out. She had just got him to sleep when her owl showed up at her bedroom window. She excitedly threw open the glass so that the bird could enter. Ginny looked around for a reply back from Harry, but found none. Immediately her emotions dropped.

Ginny walked slowly to her window to close it, but just as she was getting ready to, a face appeared in front of her. She let out a startled shriek and fell backward into the room. A smile formed on her lips, though, as she stared up from the floor at the man sitting on her window ledge.

"Oh, Harry!"

Before he could reply, Damien burst out crying. He had woken up from his nap. Ginny quickly got to her feet and comforted her son. Harry, unsure, stepped farther into the room, closing the window behind him.

"Wow. He's gotten big since last I saw him," Harry said quietly.

Ginny nodded. "Yes. His sixth birthday was the other day." Then the flood of death swarmed her memory bank. Her face fell. "Harry, I believe there is something you must know."

"Yeah?"

"Hermione. She's, well, dead."

"What?"

"She killed herself at Damien's party. It was so unexpected, and no one knows why she would do such a thing." Ginny whimpered slightly and bit her lower lip.

Harry rushed to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It is horrible that something like that happened. Hermione was a good friend to us all. Are you ok, though?"

She looked up into his blue eyes. Tears were forming in her brown ones. "Yes. Now that you're here." She smiled and he smiled back. Then they leaned in closer to eachother until their lips met and they kissed.

* * *

"So, how has Quidditch been going?" Ginny asked. They were sitting on her bed shroud in darkness. They had been talking the whole day, and Damien had finally gone back to sleep.

"Well I've gone pro, as you know. It takes up much time, but when I got your letter I had to come right away. Fortunately it was practice so I was able to just fly here straightaway." It was true. He was in his uniform and his broom was leaning against the wall.

"But won't you be yelled at once you get back? I mean you just left so abruptly."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. Have things cleared up with your parents?"

Ginny lowered her head and looked at her hands resting in her lap. She sniffed, fresh tears coming on. "No. They hate me and they hate Damien. My brothers feel the same way. I could see it in their eyes." She sighed, a tear rolling down her pale cheek. "I feel so alone."

Harry scooted in closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "But you're not alone," he whispered. "I'm right here and always will be." He smiled slightly. Ginny looked up and smiled at him. Harry wiped away a tear running down her cheek, but instead of removing his hand right away, he let it linger on her soft skin for a while.

They sat staring deep into eachother's eyes until Harry couldn't take it anymore. He leaned in and kissed her hard on the lips. He got the reaction he was looking for: she kissed him just as fiercely back. Her fingers found their way into his hair to entwine in the black locks. Harry's hands rubbed the small of her back.

When they came up for air, they began to remove their articles of clothing. First Harry pulled Ginny's top over her head. Then she helped to unbutton his shirt. She looked down at the muscles he had adopted from the vigorous training and work on the Quidditch team. He looked down at her pale, exposed breasts.

Harry lay Ginny on her back on the comfortable bed. He covered her nipple with his mouth and explored the surface of it with his tongue. Then he looked up and slowly scooted toward the end of the bed, where he slid off the skirt she had been wearing. Her white panties stood out in the black room, but he quickly took care of that.

Harry removed her panties to expose the red fluff of pubic hair that had been hiding beneath the fabric. This wasn't the first time he'd seen it. He lay back on top of Ginny and kissed her. She stretched out beneath him, all too ready. So Harry unbuckled his pants and slid them down, along with his underwear, to his ankles; then he kicked them off to the side.

Harry's hand traveled down to Ginny's thighs and separated them. As he thrust inside her, Ginny let out a gasp. She wrapped her bare legs around him and invited him in. Their naked bodies, entangled in one another, moved to the same motion. It was slow at first, but got faster and harder. Ginny moaned with each penetration. Her eyes opened wide as she peaked.

_Quick whispers. Sensations of pleasure. The cold. The dark. She was sandwiched between the hard floor and his naked, warm, fit body. She had never felt this before. It was so beautiful, so good. She didn't want it to end. She wrapped her legs around him, moving against him. She moaned, the beads of sweat rolling down her face. _

_He grabbed her breast, which caused a ripple of shock and pleasure throughout her entire body. Then she slowly felt him lower his face to the same breast. She knew what was coming but could not stop the gentle moan that came with the sharp pain inflicted upon her nipple. The pain just made the pleasure stronger. _

_She held his head in place over her breast, wanting more pain, more pleasure. His fingers caressed her hips, rolling them into his pelvis, rocking them with his own motion. Her hands explored the muscles on his back and his spine. She let her finger trace down the spinal cord until she came to his ass. She grabbed it tightly and pushed him onto her more._

_She had been stifling any noise, biting back things and noises she wanted to scream. She didn't know how much more she could hold back, though. It was getting harder and harder. As he the last thrust penetrated her, she couldn't help but release what had been welling up inside of her vocal chords this whole time._

"TOM!" Ginny moaned loudly. It was over. The sweet sex was over.

Harry collapsed onto the bed next to her. Both of their breathing was ragged, and both of their bodies were drenched in sweat. After a few minutes of silence, Harry sat up and stared at her.

"Tom?" he asked. He looked upset, hurt, and very curious, concerned, and confused.

Ginny stared horrified into Harry's blue, penetrating eyes, unable to produce a sound from her throat.


	5. A Foul Taste

A/N: We are surprised to see the amount of viewers/readers to our HP/OMEN story. Well, shall we continue on? That was a naughty cliffhanger wasn't it?

Chapter 5: A Foul Taste

Why did his name have to come into this? She wanted this, and she wanted him… She wanted Harry so much that she couldn't stand it. She thought she had gotten rid of all thoughts, feelings even, for Tom. But obviously the coupling they just endured sparked heated and tense emotions between them.

Harry now stood, naked, next to the bed not looking at Ginny. The hue from the dawning sun caught on his light sweat drenched skin. His body, lean and slightly muscular-who can say no to having sex with a Quidditch seeker? But her thoughts about screwing men for popularity weren't needed here. Not like any of that really mattered to Ginny. She was in this for the love, but now,

She wasn't sure if it was love that she was seeking, or trust…

"Harry," she whimpered. Harry flinched for a moment, but said nothing. Getting out of bed, she pulled the sheet around her frame. She walked over to him, and put an arm on his shoulder. "Harry, please…"

He turned around, grabbed her abruptly, and threw her on the bed. His eyes roamed her body. Her heart was beating wildly, and her eyes were open in fear. Never had Harry acted this way to her. 

"You and…HIM?" He whispered coldly and unbelievingly. He dammed near shook her, waiting for an answer. Ginny cried out, pleading for an end to this madness.

"Yes, Harry! It was Tom Riddle!" She flinched under his gaze. His breathing was rapid, and his fingers pinched her skin tightly. His eyes had bulged when she cried out that name, and he continued to grip on her skin… until he turned around, and started collecting his clothes.

"I did it without consent," she whispered as he began pulling on the boxers. "It was a mistake," she whispered. It wasn't a mistake! You enjoyed it! Didn't you, Ginny? 

Harry could perhaps tell the lie in her words, and he scoffed quietly. "To hell you did Ginny, to hell with everything." He turned around and faced her. His green eyes were narrowed and his hands clenched the shirt. "Don't lie to me Ginny, just… don't talk to me."

"Harry," she choked, "I love you."

He pulled on his shirt, and strode over to her, wrenching her body off the bed, and holding her by her wrist. His eyes roamed over her body, trying to decipher if she was telling the truth or lying. In the end, he spoke quietly and bitterly. "You don't love me, Ginny. You love him… the one man who I have escaped from, who is after me right now…" He stopped and gestured to the next room-Damien's room.

"You had his child, that shows love and devotion somewhere… You do realize that this boy is after me? He is on the verge of trying to kill me! That is his whole plan, that his son would come for me, and try to have him follow in his footsteps."

"No, Harry, I didn't realize." She protested, his hand still gripping her wrist tightly. "Please, let me go…"

He looked at her for a moment and then veered his hand and slapped her across the face. She cried out, and he let go of her. There was shock in his eyes, and his breath was ragged, as if he couldn't believe what he had just done. Her cheek stung, and she raised her hand to run her finger over it… it hurt.

"Mummy?"

Immediately she looked over to the voice, to see Damien standing in the doorway. She opened her mouth to say a few words, but how could she? She did not know how long he had been there, if he had seen everything. His eyes were not on her; they were on Harry, who stood beside her, his hand still frozen in mid air from the slap.

She looked foolish, to be naked in front of her son. She grabbed the sheet and stood up. "Damien, go to back to your room…Please?" He finally tore his eyes away from Harry, but very slowly. He looked at her.

"Did he hurt you mummy?" he whispered quietly. "Did he?"

"Damien, go to bed." She commanded a bit more firmly. He came into the room a bit more closely. His eyes not moving.

"Did he mummy? Did he hurt you?" She looked to Harry, who was looking at Damien incredulously.

"… Damien," Harry asked, "I think you should do as your mother says." Damien's eyes looked to Harry, and they narrowed.

"You are a very bad man," he whispered coldly. 

Harry snorted, and he bent down and looked Damien in the eyes. "And you, are a very bad boy." He flashed a look at Ginny, and then strode from the room, calling out behind him. "If you're lucky, perhaps you'll have my bastard son as well!"

Ginny watched Harry go, tears coming to her eyes. Damien's eyes had followed Harry out the door, and still remained looking that way. She stretched her hands out, and called, "Damien…" He turned around, and hugged his mother.

"Damien, please tell me you didn't see anything… Did you see mummy and Harry fighting…?" She hoped he didn't but he replied coolly and slowly. "I did. He won't hurt you again mummy, I promise."

She buried her head in Damien's neck, and began to cry quietly. "I hope so Damien, I hope so."

X

Harry stomped down the stairs, angry and frustrated by the whole incident that was going on. He just could not take it. Ginny… having sex with Tom Riddle? The man who would grow up to become he who must not be named? This could not happen… If anything, this was only a plan-which would be a great triumph in Voldemort's name.

"Harry! Blimey, what are you doing here?"

It was Ron. He, Fred and George stood sitting at the kitchen table, staring at him with odd wide eyes. As if they did not know, and he hoped they never would.

"I came to have a talk with your sister… Ginny." He said gruffly, moving into the kitchen. He could see they were looking over a piece of paper on the table, and each of them murmured.

"He's still out there, somewhere…" They were talking about Sirius Black, the escaped convict from Azkaban Prison. Fred and George did not know that Sirius was innocent. So he had learned last semester. The only people who knew that sadly were Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and himself…

"Well, they'll catch him someday." He moved away from the table, and Ron protested.

"You're leaving? I thought you'd like to stay and play wizards chess… Fred and George learned a new technique." Harry shook his head, and put on a fake grin.

"I think I should go off, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will be wondering where I went. They still think I am wandering the streets…"

"All right, see you Harry!" Ron called, and Harry walked out the door, closing it behind him. He never felt so guilty in his entire life. He had just lied to his best friend, and now… he did not know what to think of now. The world was full of deceiving people, and he had just joined the group.

He could hear a soft click from off in the distance, and he looked up to see a silhouette in the grassy field not nearly a yard or two away from The Burrow. It was still dark outside a bit, but there was something shiny within his hand… It looked like a camera, and he could only think of one person who that would belong to.

Colin Crevey

"Colin?" he called, advancing a step further towards the silhouette. But then a growl made him stop from taking another step. A big hairy black dog emerged from a nearby bush; it's eyes glowing in Harry's direction. Now this was bizarre, for the dog reminded him of Sirius in his amingus form.

"Sirius?" he questioned, taking a step towards the dog. But it growled even more, and it's eyes flashed. Something was not right. It was Sirius, it had to be… He started digging into his wand, ready to expand his wand. When suddenly, the dog leapt onto him, knocking the wand from his hands. 

He let out a shout, but the dog then sunk his teeth into his neck, and he felt pain, awful bloodcurdling pain. He was loosing conciseness, and the last thing he remembered was a voice whispering slowly and darkly,

"I serve my lord and my master…"

X

"I swear I heard Harry cry out, Ron!" George said, running out the back door of the Burrow. Just moments before they began wizards chess, they head a scream. Fred and George immediately said it was Harry's. In a frantic run they scampered out into the field, where they were now. 

"I don't see anyone," Ron said. "Maybe he appirated?"

"Ron you idiot, you have to take OWLS to do that." Fred replied in a know-it-all-tone, and looked around the area bit more. "Wait, I think I see something…"

"Where?" Ron and George asked, taking a step closer to where he was. Fred pointed over to the bush.

"There, I think I see something moving." They all then raced over to the bush, but Fred held out his hand, and cried out in horror.

"Galloping Gargoyles! It's… It's…"

"Blood…" Ron finished shakily. And there by the brim of the bush, was a long trail of blood, and dog prints leading back into the shrubbery. But what was even more shocking was the pair of glasses that were lying on the ground.

They were Harry's. 


	6. The New Nanny

A/N: So...this is our 6th chapter, and I am still surprised to see the amount of reviews that we have. I know, that's pretty lame. Oh well.

Chapter 6: The New Nanny

People travelled from far and wide to attend Harry Potter's funeral. No one had expected such a tragedy to occurfor him to die. They had to face reality, though. The boy who had lived was dead. It was a nice ceremony, to say the least. It was held on a Quidditch field with everyone sitting in the stands. It was, of course, a closed casket. When his body had finally been found, it was mangled and torn and there were still some parts of him missing. There were millions of flowers surrounding the coffin. Harry's broom and wand had even been brought over and placed on the coffin. Most people were so grief stricken that they couldn't think; others contemplated what was to come. Would the dark lord rise? Was this his doing? How would they survive if evil tried to reign supreme again?

Ginny sat on the field with the rest of Harry's relatives and close friends. She was one of those who couldn't think straight. Afterall, she had seen him the night he died. That was when they fought. Oh, that fight! She wished she could take it all back. More tears began to sting her eyes as she thought of how they parted. It was their last parting. She had loved him so much, and now he was gone. Ginny's lower lip quivered and she wrapped her arms tighter toward her body.

"Mommy, you're hurting me," Damien said quietly from her lap.

"I'm sorry, baby," she apologized, loosening her grip.

"Why are you crying, mommy?" He sounded so innocent that it brought more tears to the surface.

"Because, sweety, mommy misses Harry." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"But he was mean to you."

"No, no. We loved each other very much. Very much."

"But he slapped you, mommy. I saw him."

Ginny's eyes widened slightly. "That was an accident, honey," she said softly. "Sometimes when grown-ups get angry, they say and do things that they don't mean. That's all it was. An accident."

"He was a bad man, mommy," Damien replied in a colder, harsher voice. "He hurt you. He deserved to be punished." His eyes burned into his mother's.

Ginny's grip loosened incredibly that her hands could have fallen to her sides at any given moment. Her gaze widened even more. Another tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She looked to either side of where they were sitting to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Luckily, everyone else was paying attention to the preacher. Ginny looked at Damien again. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think.

"Don't cry, mommy," Damien said softly, wiping the newly shed tear from her cheek. Then he turned around to face the ceremony.

Ginny stared down at her son's jet black hair. Slowly, more tears started to fall. This time they weren't for Harry. They were for the thoughts that were racing through her mind about her son. They were for the possibilities she was actually contemplating could be true. They were for Harry's involvement in all of this. If it wasn't for her, he would still be alive. Ginny kissed the top of Damien's head and pulled him closer to her.

After the ceremony, the mass of people planned to take the mile long walk to the cemetary to watch Harry's body be lowered into the ground. Before departing, Ginny knew she had to get something straight. She pulled Damien, who was clinging to her hand, off to the side in a little crevice in the stadium wall. She bent down until she was face to face with her son. Her hands gripped his shoulders gently, yet forcefully. Her eyes looked right into the depths of his.

"Damien, I need you to tell mommy something. I need you to tell mommy if you know who caused this," she pleaded.

"Mommy, are you ok?" he asked, studying her face in confusion.

"Yes, mommy's fine." She sighed in frustration and took a deep breath. "Damien, please. I need to know if you are somehow connected to Harry's-" She cut off in midsentence. She took a deep, shaky breath. "-death."

"Of course not, mommy."

"Damien, are you lying to mommy?"

"No."

"Damien!" she half-shouted. She started to shake him slightly. "I need you to tell the truth!"

"Mommy, you're hurting me!"

"GINNY!"

Ginny stopped everything she was doing and seemed to snap back to reality. As soon as her grip loosened, Damien ran off to his Uncle Ron, who had broken them up. Ginny looked around and stood up. She straightened out her black skirt and matching blazer. She didn't have to walk over to her brother because he had made his way to her.

"Ginny," Ron began, "what are you doing?" Damien was up in his arms.

"I...I don't know," she admitted, running a hand through her Weasley red-hair.

Ron looked her over for a minute then whispered something into Damien's ear. The next moment he was running off toward Fred and George. Ron watched him go then looked back at his sister.

"I know you are upset about Harry's death. We all are. But, bloody hell Ginny, that's no reason to take it out on Damien. He's just a child."

Tears started to stream down Ginny's face. She closed her eyes tightly and covered them with the palm of her hand.

"I don't know what I was doing, Ron. Damien said something during the funeral and I thought maybe he had seen what had happened or something."

Ron embraced Ginny, who was now full out crying. She buried her face into his shoulder and wept. Ron lightly petted the back of her hair.

"Shh, it's ok. You're just upset and worn out with everything that is happening. Let's go."

As Ron led Ginny away, neither was aware of the quiet, fast _click_ that had been occuring during the whole conversation.

->

_Ginny watched as the coffin was lowered slowly into the ground. After this it would all be over. There would be no more to talk about or to do. Her gaze drifted down to the single crimson rose grasped gently in her fingers and held at her torso. Suddenly, a loud crash was heard, and she looked up just in time to see Harry's coffin tip and plunge into the dug out grave. She screamed as loud as she could. This shouldn't be happening. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. Harry shouldn't have to suffer anymore. He had done that enough for her already._

_She felt her hands slowly becoming encompassed in a sticky liquid. At first she thought it was from her tears, which had errupted at the disturbance. She brought her hand to her face to wipe away the tears. She soon realized that was not the source. She looked down and saw the rose bleeding onto her fingers. The blood matched the rose's crimson color. Ginny, horrified, dropped the rose, which dried up and died as soon as it hit the ground. She backed up a couple steps, staring down at her bloody hands. She looked up and saw a shadow standing in the distance. As if someone had hit the fastforward button, the shadow moved from it's place across the graveyard to right in front of her in a matter of seconds. She screamed as she saw Damien looking up at her with a malicious grin on his face._

Ginny shot up in bed drenched in a cold sweat. There were tears streaming her vision. She gently wiped them away and ran a hand through her messy hair. That's when she felt a droplet, then another. She looked at her hand to see drops of blood on it. Her fingers found their way to her nose before pulling away. It was bleeding. She had a bloody nose.

Ginny quickly cleaned up and checked on Damien, who was still sleeping, before heading downstairs. When she reached the bottom, the doorbell rang. She looked around.

"I've got it!" she called and went to the door.

Oliver Wood stood on the other side of the door. He was holding a small bouquet of wild flowers and looking away. Ginny smiled and laughed slightly.

"Yes?" she said, catching his attention.

Oliver turned around quickly to face her. "Hi," he replied. His eyes looked Ginny over. A small blush crept to his face. She was still in her pajamas.

Ginny saw this and blushed as well. "I'm sorry. Come in. I'll be right down."

After she had changed and washed up a bit, she found Oliver in the kitchen with Ron, Fred, and George. They were pumping him for questions about Quidditch. Now that he was a famous Keeper, he knew most of the teams around the world, if not all, and he could get them free seats if he chose to do so.

"Alright guys, break it up," Ginny said, entering the room. "I'm sure Oliver didn't just come here to listen to all your questions."

Her brothers slowly departed, and she sat down next to the Quidditch Captain. Harry and Oliver had been good friends, and when Harry and Ginny had started to date, they would always hang out together. She wasn't surprised to see him here. Afterall, one of his team members had died the other day.

"These are for you," Oliver said awkwardly, handing Ginny the flowers.

"They're lovely," she said.

Oliver's eyes searched the table. "You must be feeling really lost and alone without Harry." So, he was blunt and to the point.

"Yeah. It just seems so surreal."

"I know. He was a good friend." Oliver, daringly, stretched out his hand to encompass Ginny's.

She smiled slightly, then removed her hand from underneath his and let it disappear beneath the table.

Oliver cleared his throat and decided to go on before this turned into an even more awkward moment. "So, I was thinking, since you are probably really torn up about Harry and still need time to mourn, maybe I could offer my services to you."

Ginny stared at him wide-eyed.

Oliver's eyes went wide after a minute. "Oh, no, not like that. Oh my, I'm sorry. I meant as a babysitter for Damien. Afterall, you're probably going to be really busy getting through this time and I could help with Damien so you could have time alone. You know, be kind of like a Nanny."

"A Nanny?" Ginny asked incredulously, smiling.

"Yeah. Just don't tell people you call me a Nanny." He winked.


	7. A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

Chapter 7: A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

Ron watched Ginny and Oliver Wood talking in the kitchen. Never had he seen Ginny so pleasant; or blushing! He did not want to say he was getting suspicious of what had been going on lately, but things were just not making any sense.

Harry…was dead. What would happen now? The wizarding world would certainly feel the impact of his death soon enough. It was shocking that the murder was committed by anyone except Lord Voldemort. How could anyone get so close to Harry? And on their own property!

"Ron, is that Ginny flushed over Wood?" Fred asked, peeking into the kitchen to see what was going on. Ron nodded and narrowed his eyes.

"That's what's happening, all right," he replied. George came into the room, and in his hands was a fist full of galleons and a small leather satchel.

"You know, I keep thinking about when Harry gave us his Tri-Wizard tournament money…" He looked up to Ron with a pained smile. "It's shocking to know that he is gone…" He looked from Ron to Fred. "Why are you standing here?" He was about to march into the kitchen until Fred and Ron pulled him back into the room.

"No!" Ron hissed. "Don't go in there." George wore a puzzled expression. Fred let go of him and pointed with his finger toward the room.

"If you didn't see, Ginny and Wood seem to be getting cozy." George blinked a few times in surprise, unable to understand.

"Wood and Ginny!" He peeked into the kitchen and indeed the two were sitting much closer together now. "What are they are talking about so intently?"

"Well," Ron said, ushering the twins from the room and into a more secluded area, "I caught part of the conversation. He is going to be—get this!—a nanny!"

The twins broke out in wild laughter. Ron had to smile, as well. The thought of Wood being anything but a Quidditch player was preposterous! He was sure he was going to be more of a Keeper than a nanny. Well, perhaps he was doing this for the loss of Harry.

When the twins had finished their laughs, they wiped their eyes.

"Good one, mate," George said.

"Wood a nanny! He is the captain of a Quidditch team."

Ron nodded. "That's true…yes." Once again, he began to have odd thoughts. Before he could say anything, Ginny and Oliver walked through the kitchen door. Oliver had grown, it was evident. His features had grown somewhat sharper, more defined. He remembered that in second year, many girls found him rather dreamy. 'Show off,' Ron thought.

"The Weasley twins!" There was a triumphant smile on his face. "You guys weren't spying on us, were you?"

"Indeed not, Wood!" Fred slapped Oliver on the back, then George began talking frantically as if there was no tomorrow (probably to distract him from Ginny).

"Weasley Wizard Wheezes," George said triumphantly. "We have opened up a shop, with the help of Harry, to keep the joking spirit alive. In honor of Harry Potter…" They had led Wood far off into the Burrow, leaving Ginny and Ron alone. Ron turned to Ginny, who had a dreamy expression on her face.

"Blimey!" Ron muttered, which caught Ginny's attention.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing, just marveling over the fact that Oliver will be staying here." Of course, this was a quick cover up. He was actually quite surprised over Ginny's obvious affection for the Quidditch player. She was not doing a good job of hiding it.

"Oh yes. Amazing, isn't it, Ron?" She stared and sat down in one of the old arm chairs. Ron moved over to the opposite chair and sat down. As he eyes his sister, he was just about to voice his thoughts on the problem when Ginny said hers first.

"I think I have gone mad, Ron." She raked her fingers through her orange locks, pulling at the ends. Puzzled, Ron became.

"Why do you think you are going mad, Ginny?" Ginny shook her head murmuring to herself. "Tell me, Ginny."

"Ron, you'll find this weird, but I can't think Harry's death was an accident." She looked up at Ron, fright reflecting in her eyes. "The weird thing is, I asked Damien—of all people—if he had something to do with this."

"But," Ron began, "Damien is only a little boy."

"I know, Ron," she continued, "that he is young. But sometimes I think about him and his eyes. They can be as innocent as a child's, but sometimes they change. Before Harry left, Damien threatened—no! Harry threatened Damien, and Damien replied to him, and his eyes, Ron! Those pleading eyes both threaten and adore!" She buried her head into her hands, crying.

Ron was not only shocked, he was speechless. This was exactly what he was going to speak to Ginny about: the oddness of Harry's death, and the death of Hermione. Hermione! She was the first to die…Would he be next?

"Ginny," he began quietly," I was hoping to talk to you about Harry's death." Ginny stopped crying and raised her head slightly.

"Yes?"

"Well, I think-" He was cut short at the sound of an owl swooping in through the kitchen window. The owl made its way into the room and dropped a letter into his lap, circles around, then flew out the same open window. There was no return address, and he did not recognize the handwriting. But it was addressed to him, nonetheless. Turning the letter over in his hands, he opened it. Out tumbled a few pictures.

"Are those photographs?" Ginny's head peered into his hands, hoping to get a better look. Ron nodded and stuffed the pictures into the envelope. Fred and George entered the room with a very agitated looking Wood.

"Care to invest, Wood?" George asked, shaking the money bag. "We have been quite successful so far."

"I bet you have, but I will have to think about it." He looked to Ron and smiled. "A letter arrived?" Ron nodded.

"They are pictures, Oliver, but Ron put them away before I could get a look at them," she pouted. Oliver laughed and sat down next to Ginny.

"Come, Ron. Let's see these pictures." Ron hesitated. Even though he would have felt comfortable showing Wood, he just didn't want to.

Ron shook his head. "Nah, I'll let you guys catch up." He got up from the chair and motioned to Fred and George to follow him. When out of the room, he opened the letter. The twins crowded around them.

"Bloody Hell, it's Hermione!" Fred whispered. Indeed it was, but she was alive and happy in this picture. Damien and she had been photographed, and they watched the pictures move before their eyes.

"Why would anyone send you these?" George asked. Ron shook his head.

"I don't know." Then, he saw it! Out of no where, on Hermione's neck, a translucent line appeared around her neck and disappeared up into the picture. "It looks like a rope!" he whispered. But these were pictured during the party, not after! Flipping through each of them, he came across a picture of Harry. Each of them bent closer to examine the small moving picture.

Harry was obviously outside, and his eyes were trained directly at the camera. His lips formed words, but they couldn't be understood. Suddenly, Harry's body turned red, red splotches everywhere. The picture replayed a few times to their horror.

"They don't make any sense," George said finally. "How can these pictures show their deaths before it happens?" Ron flipped over the photo of Harry and there written was:

_We need to talk; bring these pictures with you tonight. I'll be waiting at Kings Cross. It's not safe here._

_ C.C._

"C.C." Ron asked, "Who is that?" The twins shook their heads. Whomever took these pictures knows something and hopefully will put some answers to the unexplained questions."


	8. CC

Chapter 8: C.C.

The night was darker than usual, or maybe it just seemed that way to a nervous eye. At King's Cross Railway Station, only the shadows and midnight train catchers were alive. The relentless silence created an awkward, anxious stillness that seemed to bear down on innocent bystanders. It made the arrivals hurry home and the departures wish they were somewhere else. Yet for some reason, one person seemed to defy the odds and walk into the black hole instead of shrink away from it. The red-haired conqueror was none other than Ronald Weasley.

With a large, sealed envelope in one hand and his wand in the other, Ron was on a mission that he wouldn't be distracted from. He wanted—no!--he needed to find out who could have possibly sent these disturbing photographs to him. His best friend and his girlfriend had died mysteriously and terribly and whoever this person was had the nerve to take pictures of the entire deal and send them to him. What was worse was that the photos showed their cause of death before it had even happened. It was sick—just some sick, cruel joke. Ron was not going to stand for it.

Looking around at the few who occupied the station, Ron walked to an empty bench and sat down. He didn't know how long he had been sitting for when the train came into the station. The lights coming from inside of the transport system added to the dim hanging lights and lit up the station. It came to a stop and the minimal number of people littering the other benches boarded it. The few that came off were quickly out of sight, and the train departed soon after. Ron continued to sit in silence. Could it be possible he had been set up? Was C.C. not going to show? Whatever doubts he had on being stood up quickly vanished with the clear, somewhat girlish voice.

"Did you bring the pictures?"

Ron jumped and turned in his seat. A figure with a long, gray cloak and floppy gray hat covering his face stood behind him. How and when it got there, Ron didn't know. He stood up quickly and backed up a couple steps. It seemed to be looking at him, or at least in his direction. He couldn't quite tell with the dim light casting shadows inside the hat. He swallowed and tensed slightly.

"Yes."

"Good. Please take a seat, Ron. What I'm going to tell you isn't going to be easy to comprehend or believe, for that matter."

Ron took the couple steps back to the bench, but he refused to sit down. He stared at the figure, his anger suddenly returning and drowning out his fear. His grasp on the envelope of pictures tightened slightly.

"How do you know my name? Who are you? What do you want? Why the Hell would you," he waved the envelope up, "send these horrid pictures to me? Are you some kind of sick freak?"

Ron had been almost shouting and the figure put up his hands to quiet the boy down. The hat turned left then right, seeming to look for any spying pedestrians or people that could have overheard them. Then it turned back to face Ron.

"Please, don't shout," the accented voice whispered. "Spies could be anywhere. We don't want him to know about this meeting. Who knows what he could do?"

"'_He_?_'_" Ron asked. "Are you working for Lord Voldemort? Are you the one who helped murder Harry?"

Again Ron had started to shout, and again the figure put up his hands to silence him. Ron's fists were clenched tightly. The envelope was crumbling up in his hand.

"I would never even wish harm upon Harry Potter. You could say he was my idol back in school."

Ron's face screwed up and his tense muscles relaxed slightly. The figure reached up with a gloved hand and removed the hat. The shadows still engulfed him, so Ron still couldn't identify the character. Sensing this, the figure inhaled sharply and looked around.

"It's me, Ron. Colin," it said, almost inaudibly.

"Colin?" Ron whispered.

The figure took one step closer, light washing over him. Instantly the blonde, wavy locks were recognizable. The big blue eyes were suspicious, curious, and somewhat drained from lack of sleep, but they were still familiar. His skin still looked smooth, but aged around the eyes and forehead. It was an older, matured version of the annoying boy from Hogwarts. Ron remembered well now. He had never left Harry alone. Always clicking. Always around.

"Colin Creevey."

Ron's eyes lit up and all his features and muscles relaxed.

"Colin," Ron said breathlessly. "You're C.C.?"

"Well, I thought it might be kind of obvious," the boy replied shamefully.

Ron was silent a moment then laughed slightly. He shook his head and rubbed the knots from his forehead. He took a seat and leaned forward, elbows on knees. His smile soon disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. He held the envelope in front of him as if he had x-ray vision and was actually examining the photos inside.

"Colin, why did you take these? Why are they so horrible?"

"That's the thing, Ron," Colin began. He swiftly sat next to Ron and looked over at him. "When I took the pictures, nothing was wrong with them. The people in them were happy and perfectly fine. Then I developed them and that was how they turned out."

Ron closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He buried his face in his hands.

"I know it is hard to believe, but that's what happened. I didn't even believe it myself. I thought maybe something was screwing up my camera. Then Hermione-"

"Don't say it," Ron cut in.

Colin nodded, then continued, "And what was in the picture and what had happened just seemed so coincidental. I brushed that off. But then came Harry."

Ron looked up and at Colin. "Are you trying to say that your picture can predict who is going to die?"

Colin laughed unintentionally. He quickly caught himself and cleared his throat as a sort of apology. "No. That would be insane.'

Ron's expression was screwed up again. "Then what are you trying to say?"

Colin grabbed the envelope out of Ron's hands and opened it. He took out the pictures and held them out. Ron grimaced slightly.

"I think Harry's and Hermione's death are related somehow."

"What!"

"Just hear me out. The night I took this picture of Harry, he had had a slight quarrel with your sister."

"Were you spying on her?"

"I'll get to that later. Anyway, Damien had walked in on them fighting. In this picture of Hermione, you can see she is with Damien. It was only when Ginny took him from her that she, well, you know. That's why I was outside your house when Harry…"

Ron readjusted his position. "So, are you trying to tell me that you think Damien killed Harry and Hermione?"

"Yes. Well, in a sense. I don't think he killed them, but I think he had something to do with their deaths."

Ron shook his head and stood up. "Colin, I think you have gone insane." He whirled around and faced the sitting boy. "Damien is a child. He can barely read let alone murder someone!"

Colin stood up slowly. "I told you it would be difficult to comprehend."

"Don't send me anymore photographs, Colin." Ron turned and began to walk briskly away. "Keep the envelope. You've gone fucking nuts."

Colin watched Ron until he was out of sight. Then he reached into his trench coat and pulled out some snapshots. He looked down at them. The first was of Harry's closed casket at the funeral. He watched some of the flowers blowing in the wind, then blood began to slide out of the sides of the coffin. He quickly flipped to the next picture, which was of Ginny and Damien after the ceremony. Ginny was shaking her son. A very light cloaked figure was standing behind her. Colin switched to the next photo. It was of Ron and Ginny, talking. As they came together to form a hug, a very translucent line was coming out of Ron's back. Its shape looked like a dagger if one looked closely.

Colin put the photos and envelope back inside his coat. Placing the hat back on top of his head, he looked around, then slowly walked out of the train station.


End file.
